Acoustical Make Up
by KJay99
Summary: Takes place after Myka leaves, then returns to the WH. Artie is ordered to help her through her issues, but he is hurt on a case together. Can she step up when needed to prevent losing another partner? Of course she can, but read all about how and what happens.
1. Boxed In

**Special thanks to Kritchkow, girltechcoyote, Jimmy 144, LadyNRA, MarieRene, Kendralynora, Lynnutte and everyone else! (Phew)**

**Pings will be sent out for updates. **

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><p>In a dark corner of the port, an old, rusted shipping container had found new life in the employment of the mob. It was being pried open by a man with large forearms. Two others ruthlessly dragged a man's portly body into the container. A thin woman was handcuffed and being dragged backwards as she struggled and screamed.<p>

The two men roughly hauled the unconscious man and dumped him inside the rusted container.

"Be careful with him!" the handcuffed lady yelled.

The man who was dragging her pulled her into the container by the handcuffs behind her back. He forced her to her knees as the first two men left for the door. The third man joined them and they closed the door, sealing the two agents inside.

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><p><strong>(2 Days ago)<strong>

"_Claudia!" _

A strong voice bellowed throughout the office, making the windows rattle. The voice was quickly followed by it's owner, a portly man past his middle aged, as evidenced by the pepper grey color invading his unruly curls and goatee. Artie Neilson barreled into the room, as he often did, with his hands filled, clutching a handful of file cards in one hand and an open Farnsworth with the other.

Reaching the file cabinets, he opened a drawer and jammed the communication device into it to stand it up and allow him to talk to his agents on the other end. He roughly pushed his glasses back onto his face and jerked out another drawer. "'Uncontrollable cravings' you said?"

A voice came from the Farnsworth. "Yeah Artie, this guy took on three cops before they taised him. He was out of control." Special Agents Pete Lattimer and Steve Jinks were displayed in the little grey and white screen.

Their supervisor shuffled through an endless supply of aged and stained file cards, letting them fall to the floor as soon as he eliminated them, mumbling to himself as he went. "Cravings… cravings…. Somewhere… I know—Atlanta… I remember something… something…. Ah!" Artie held up on particular card and read it. "Coka-Cola."

"Artie, we are in Atlanta, there's a lot of Coke around here. Besides, I get cravings for that stuff, but not that bad…" Pete's voice said.

"Yeah." Artie huffed a laugh of agreement at Pete and Jinks in the little display. "But this-" he flicked the card. "is one of the _original_ cans of Coke, from the original batch!"

Steve Jinks piped up, "Didn't that have actual cocaine in it?"

"Among other things." Artie added seriously. He referenced the card again. "Found in Atlanta, the original batch was said to provoke uncontrollable cravings until more was obtained, which only led to more cravings." He sighed and got serious. "Eight deaths attributed to the batch when the initial test group beat each other to death trying to get the last can in the room." A beat passed before Artie turned back to his agents in the field. "If he drank a can from the original batch, he won't stop until he gets more. Find him! Stop him!" He flipped the Farnsworth's case shut roughly ending the call without saying goodbye.

Artie stayed still for a second thinking hard. Suddenly he turned and yelled, "Claud-"

He stopped short seeing his boss, Mrs. Fredric in the room. Artie caught his breath from the surprise of her arrival. He didn't hear her enter, but that was normal with this mysterious woman. He quickly capped his annoyance with himself, letting it only come out as a growl for a greeting. "Mrs. Fredric."

The neatly dressed dark woman addressed him with her air of authority. "Arthur."

Recovering quickly, Artie made his way to his desk. "To what do we owe this visit?"

"I am concerned with the workings of your team." She responded.

"I- the team is fine." Artie said with obvious confusion. "Pete and Steve are in Atlanta now and working together fine."

"I am not talking about Agents Jinks nor Lattimer." The woman interrupted him slowly with purposeful selection of her words.

Artie looked at her. They both knew what the problem was. Ever since HG Wells showed up, Myka, the woman who vouched for her, was never quite the same. She only barely came back to the Warehouse at all, quitting after the havoc that Wells created. Artie rubbed his stubby fingers over his jaw. The problem was that Artie didn't know what to do to get things back to normal.

Seeing his struggle, Mrs. Fredric softened her tone. "Take her on a case Arthur. Perhaps you can reestablish Agent Bering's confidence in herself and her abilities." Artie nodded and grunted considering her idea. "Detroit."

"What?"

Mrs. Fredric tilted her head. She didn't like repeating herself. She slowly said again. "Take her to Detroit."

"Wh- what's in Detroit?" He asked.

"A case." She replied patiently.

Artie was confused. "Case? What case?" Just then his computer alerted him to a 'ping' or an alert of artifact activity. Artie spun around to look at his monitor. "Looks like we just got a ping. Two people dead, for no apparent reason. In…. Detroit."

Artie turned around to look at Mrs. Fredric, but she was gone. He was surprised, although he knew that he shouldn't be.

The red headed Claudia came into the room from the Warehouse door. She caught his last sentence. "Where?"

Artie took one more look around the room to make sure that his creepy boss really was gone before saying, "Um…. Myka and I are going to Detroit."

Claudia stopped dead and looked at her boss. She was just getting used to being sent into the field as an agent to collect artifacts. With Pete and Steve already out, she assumed that she would be the one to go out with Myka if anything else came up. "Artie…. Um… you sure, that you don't like want me… ya know. To go?"

"No, no…. I'll go." Artie was already throwing various items into his bag for the trip. He stopped when the tone of Claudia's voice finally permeated his thoughts. "Ah…. Think you can run support from the office?" He tilted his head to look at the girl's face. "I'll have Leena come into help."

Claudia shrugged off the blow to her ego. "Yeah, course. Just want to make sure that you're ready to be all running around in Motor City." The jab at Artie's ample midsection was her cover up of the awkwardness. It didn't pass by Artie unnoticed, but he also knew that their normal mode of communication was affectionate teasing, so he took it as a good sign. He gave her a playful scowl as the girl smirked and left the room.

After Claudia left, Artie thought of the mission. Crossing the room, he picked up the phone. "Myka? Start packing. You and I have a case."

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><p><strong>Input please! :) Thx for reading.<strong>


	2. Locked up

**Next bit. Looks like you'll have to check back to keep getting the full chapters. **

**For example, I added to the first chapter. Make sure you got it all. **

***UPDATE.***

**Major thanks to my editors. MarieRene and Lynnutte. Thanks to everyone else for the encouragment too! And my reviewers! Your input means more than you realize. Really. **

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><p>Myka took in her surroundings with wide eyes. At first she couldn't see anything in the sudden darkness. She struggled to her feet but fell and hit the metal side. Her panicked breaths echoed off the rusty walls.<p>

The agent chose to exert her will power over the growing despair that she felt in her chest. She forced her will over the situation by taking control over the little that she could control. She closed her eyes and took a deep unsteady breath. Myka learned how to escape from handcuffs about the second week after becoming an agent. Her long arms were to her advantage now as she rotated her shoulders and scooted her wrists under her backside and to the front of her body. She forced her legs underneath her and struggled to her feet.

Myka bent over, held her breath and twisted her wrists hard. She held her breath trying to create enough torque to release the handcuffs. The agent gritted her teeth against the pain as the cuffs cut into her wrists, blowing out her breath in a huff when they didn't budge. She knew that Artie needed her. She didn't have time to waste with more failure.

"Artie?" she called softly into the gloom. She didn't hear anything, not even him breathing.

Myka gathered her determination again. She drew in a breath, bent over and torqued the hell out of the handcuffs. Her muscles strained and her wrists hollered in pain. A shriek of pain escaped her but she didn't let up. Finally, when she started seeing stars, she released air in her lungs. Her gasps echoed off the rusty walls. Pain from her wrists told her that the cuffs had bitten into her flesh, but her brain barely registered the fact. She needed to check on Artie.

"Artie?" She called softly. "Artie!"

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><p><strong>(One Day ago)<strong>

Myka and Artie met with the local police that handled the case of the two dead men. The agents flashed their badges and got a surprisingly warm welcome. It turned out that the chief of police and sergeant in charge were only too happy to get this confusing case off of their desk.

After being briefed by the investigating officers, Artie flipped through the file of the scene. A depression was ripped into a side wall, like it was hit with a wrecking ball, leaving a four foot wide circle. A serious scowl and a confused look came across Artie's face before he handed the picture to Myka to analyze.

"What would do something like this?" she thought out loud.

Artie squinted a second in thought. "I don't know. There is Jerico's horn, but that's in the Warehouse, of course." He read the autopsy report again and sighed.

Myka straightened up. There weren't a lot of leads on this one. She picked the best one that she saw and hoped that Artie would agree with her. Not that she would expect him to. Telling the Regents that you were confident in yourself and actually being so can be two different things.

She suspected that was why Artie didn't send Claudia on this retrieval with her. He obviously didn't have the confidence in her that he once had. She didn't blame him one bit. Myka still thought that she could do the job; if she didn't she wouldn't have come back. But at the same time, her immense confidence that her over planning and strict personality had given her before, had failed her. She wasn't quite sure what she had left.

Myka straightened up and focused on the case at hand. She thought that the best way through this issue of hers was probably to just jump into the pool again, head first. If Artie was there to evaluate her in the field, like she suspected, then she would simply have to rise to the occasion.

"I say we try the roommate." She said then waited.

"Hm?" He was distracted by the odd bowl-shaped depression of destruction on the wall. Such a depression should be a distinctive characteristic and easy to trace, but he couldn't remember hearing or reading of such an effect before. He shook his head as Myka drew him back. "Yeah. Ok. Let's go."

As they both left the police station for the younger of the two victim's apartment, Artie pulled out the Farnsworth to get Claudia looking for some artifact that can kill people without a mark and leave a bowl like depression carved into a wall.

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><p><strong>Again- trying something new here. Feel free to comment! Or just wait to the end and we'll see how it turns out! K~<strong>


	3. Tracking and Finding

**Keep checking back for updates. **

**I'll try to send out pings when I update. **

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><p>Myka took a hesitant step forward. She could see nothing but rust colored darkness. She desperately wanted a noise to direct her. "Artie!" she loudly whispered. She strained her ears in the silence. Her heels clicked on the metal floor as she slowly walked forward, when a sudden force cracked her knee cap. She cursed and fell on her elbows on the top of a wooden box letting her frustration out in a hoarse whisper.<em> "Artie!"<em>

The agent worked her way around the crate and finally found the wall. She made her way down to her knees and kept calling to her boss as she felt along the edge, making her way towards the door. She knew that he had to be there somewhere. She had just started to wonder if there was an artifact that made people melt through metal, or disappear, when she felt a warm hand.

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><p><strong>(Earlier that day)<strong>

At the apartment of the younger of the two victims, Myka opened the door roughly, followed by Artie in his black fedora and black long trench coat. Myka quickly discovered that the roommate wasn't home. Seeing the place empty, Artie gave the superintendant that let them in, a rough "thank you" that also meant "leave us alone".

By the time he turned back, Myka was starting to rifle through the apartment already. Tim, the mysteriously dead roommate, had a room filled with books and papers. Eric, the absent roommate, was noticeably neater and more focused on women and looks, judging from his more stylish clothes.

They each took a room. Myka started poking around Eric's neat room and Artie took the messier Tim's.

Myka concentrated. She focused so hard that she concentrated on concentrating. She wondered where a kid like Eric would get to. She picked up a picture of him with three girls surrounding him and decided that he would be up to trouble if he could find it. From the pictures, both roommates appeared to be about late 20's, maybe early 30's but no more.

She ripped out a small desk drawer with a little too much eagerness and pulled it from its track. Myka sighed and carefully put the drawer back. The brunette agent shook her head and sat down in the chair at the desk. Being that wound up wouldn't help her with the investigation, she knew. Whatever emotions she was feeling, they had to be put to the back of her mind, for now at least. Myka let her eyes drift over the desk, trying to calm down and find out what would cause two people to die without a mark and leave a giant divot in a wall.

Much calmer, Myka noticed a note pad. The light in the room caught the edge of a depression. Myka squinted at the blank pad then held it up. She caught the light just right and could read a few letters. The agent pulled open the desk drawer and pulled out a pencil. Using the side of the pencil lead, she soon scratched over the note, revealing the depression.

The thin agent came into the living room, just as Artie was coming out from the other bedroom. He started talking before she could start. "Looks like this Tim was into acoustics." He held up a magazine clipping of the older man they saw in the autopsy files. "They both were. His room is filled with acoustical notes."

Myka put a hand on her hip dramatically. "Looks like this one has a meeting." She held up the pad for Artie to read. The scratching revealed. "Great Lakes Docks, Grosse International Park 5 sharp! $$"

Artie ran up to her and touched the note, as if to see if it was for real. "When? What day?" He looked at Myka intently.

She held up a calendar that she found in the room. "Today. In an hour." She smiled.

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><p><strong>(Later that day)<strong>

Myka drove their SUV up to the Great Lakes Docks at Grosse International Park. The car that Claudia said was registered to Eric was already parked in front of a chain linked fence surrounding the dock. She put the truck into park then stared at the loading area. Truck containers were stacked everywhere. Some were still on the back of semi trucks, waiting to be delivered or unloaded, others were stacked three high or just single containers stacked in rows upon rows. Massive cranes towered above all of the truck containers by the edge of the massive lake St. Claire. The entire place was deathly still. All of the dock workers were off for the Labor Day holiday.

The thin agent was wearing a white blouse. She reached into the back seat for her black suit jacket, looking at her boss in the process. He was analyzing the loading area as she was from behind his black sunglasses and under his fedora hat. He unclipped his sunglasses and stashed them in his front pocket to compensate for the fading light. Myka subconsciously bit her lip. She knew that this was where she usually shined. This was her chance to prove that she was still an asset to the Warehouse and to Artie.

Myka gathered herself. "I can run point." She pulled out and checked her gun, offering to take the lead and let Artie back her up.

"No…" Artie's eyes were thoughtful, wheels turning in his head. He pulled out his own gun, the tesla, and checked it. "If this kid, Eric, has an artifact that killed his roommate, we might be able to get it from him. He might not even know what he has." He put the Tesla back into his bag. "Let's search the area, split up. Once we find whoever the kid is meeting with, wait for me to make a move. I'll get him to give up the artifact. You can back me up."

Myka set her jaw. A little part of her cringed at him not wanting her to go in first, but she opened the SUV's door and got out anyway. Her issues were her issues and she could deal with them. She had to remind herself that she was a good agent and that Artie was no ordinary partner. Sam, partner that she lost, that was different, she told herself. Still, her heart was beating too fast with nerves. Myka eyed the docks and shipping containers then mentally pulled up the image of Eric from the pictures in his room. In her black work suit, Myka looked the picture of professionalism. She took a deep breath and tried to make her thoughts match her outward appearance. She was determined to get them both out of there with the artifact. Myka looked at her outwardly disorganized boss in his long black coat and hat.

"Artie, be careful." She told him seriously.

"Yeah." He said and nodded seriously. Artie pointed to the fence and Myka started off to circle the perimeter.

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><p><strong>(65 minutes ago) <strong>

Artie watched Myka head off along the perimeter of the docks. He started towards the right side of the container area, closer to the water. The portly man swallowed and carefully walked next to a semi container. He peeked around the end of it but didn't see anything but more containers and a few random chairs. Carefully, he crept up to another container, making his way to a clearing along the water. After two more containers, Artie heard voices. He stopped and listened, then quickly made his way to the end of another container.

The old agent peeked around the corner of the metal truck container, unruly eyebrows leading the way from under the brim of his hat. Just twenty feet away was a small group of people, including their young target, Eric.

"…make you untouchable!" Eric was saying. "No one else has this kind of technology! Not even the cops!" He had a hand-held device that looked like a small, grey satellite dish attached to an electronic box.

Artie peeked again and saw that he was talking to four men dressed in black suits. Two were large and another pair, a third skinnier and smaller man and what could have been his body guard standing by a black Cadillac. Artie pressed his lips and squinted in thought. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it didn't look good.

"Of course, I will require a demonstration Mr. Morris." The thin man said.

"Of course." Eric said. He fiddled with the device, flipping a switch on the attached box. "This dish is designed so perfectly that just by itself, you can hear things up to half a mile away!"

Artie gulped and held his breath, just in case. Once he saw that the dish wasn't pointed at him, he stuck his hand into his bag and fished around until he came out with a small plastic package. He ripped it open and stuck ear plugs into his ears.

Eric held the dish up and pointed it to the water. The thin man stepped close to him and the back of the dish. "See? You can hear the waves from the lake from here."

"But I can hear that without the dish." The thin man said with a dangerous smirk.

"Ok, ok… " Eric turned and pointed the dish to some truck containers. A fast scuffling came from the dish so clearly that even Artie could hear it from his hiding place. "Hear that? It's a rat." Eric shifted the dish again. He was starting to warm up to his sales man role. "And that…." He dropped off. The dish projected the distinct sound of footstep. The supervisor's heart dropped into his stomach, realizing that they just discovered Myka.

Eric turned with a surprised look to the black suited men. The thin man grimly nodded at the larger of the guards. The two goons wordlessly pulled out guns and started towards the noise.

Artie grabbed his bag and quickly moved to head off the pair.

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><p><strong>(An hour ago)<strong>

The graying supervisor rushed off as fast as he could, while still being quiet and fishing his tesla out of his bag. He slowed at the end of the shipping container and put his head out quickly to peek around the corner. Seeing the two goons heading the other way, towards Myka, he quickly crossed the path between containers. Jogging as quietly as possible, Artie peeked again, then turned to the right in the hopes of cutting off the goons before they got to Myka.

Two more containers down, Artie slowed his pace. Slightly breathless, he looked around the corner of the container. He saw the smaller of the two goons creeping silently and looking down an aisle that was hidden from Artie. The goon was looking so intently that he didn't notice Artie approaching. The guard raised his gun and took aim.

The supervisor raised his own gun at the guard. "Pst." He got the guard's attention and momentarily distracted him from shooting. The man had a surprised look on his face as the electrical discharge hit him in the chest.

Artie lowered the tesla as the man went down. He knew that Myka was just on the other side of the shipping container, but he was more interested in where the other guard was. He heard a small click. Artie turned just in time to see the air warp around the small dish that Eric held. He was only just able to drop his bag and tesla and cram his hands over his ears as the sound wave slammed into him.

The waves tore through Artie's ears and slammed together with a crash in the middle of his skull. His whole body was shaken by the tremendous noise. It rattled his lungs and made him grimace and scream at the sudden pain, which was drowned by the beam of noise. His hat flew off and he was thrown back against the shipping container as the sound wave violently bent the metal and chipped paint behind him. Fortunately for Artie, he didn't feel anything anymore. He fell face down onto the ground. Once he hit the dirt, he didn't move.

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><p><strong>(45 minutes ago)<strong>

The first hint that Myka got that something was wrong was a blue light throwing a shadow of a man onto the container to her right. She instantly recognized that shade of electric blue as a tesla discharge. The agent pulled out her gun and held it at the ready.

She quickly spun towards the flash. She saw a brown haired man in a black suit lying on the ground. A noise, unlike any that she'd ever heard before assaulted her. Instinctively she put her hands to hear ears to try to block the cacophony out. A moment later it was over. Myka worked her jaw and swallowed to clear her ears. She held her gun out in front of her again and crept forward.

She reached the man and kicked his gun away. Then she and saw Eric. She quickly turned and pointed her gun at him.

"Hand over the artifact." She ordered.

"The what?" Eric looked at her like she was a crazy woman. With a gun pointed at him, but crazy all the same.

"The…. The- dish!" Myka stumbled. "Just put it down and no one gets hurt."

"It's too late for that." A deep voice said. From behind a container, a much larger guy than the one that was teslaed stepped out. He held a gun to Myka's head. "I wouldn't move."

"Ok, let's all calm down." Myka started talking. She thought that maybe she could stall for Artie. It wasn't quite according to plan, but he could improvise. "I'm a federal agent. I just want the artifact."

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't care who you are." A different voice said. A thinner man dressed in a suit with an open collar walked up to her. Another man, personal body guard, Myka thought followed the thinner man. The big guy kept his gun on Myka as the thinner man grabbed hers. Myka huffed, but cornered and out numbered, she let the man take her gun. The bigger man came up and handcuffed her hands behind her back, ignoring her threats.

A third man, Myka recognized him as the one that Artie tesla-ed, came up to them holding his head. The thin man grabbed Myka's handcuffs and dragged her to Eric.

"You were followed!" he growled.

Eric was clearly frightened. "N-no. I wasn't! I don't know who they are! I swear!"

"Clear out their pockets. Put her and that in a container until we can figure out how to clean up this mess." The thin man ordered as he gestured to the ground just out of Myka's sight.

Myka didn't understand until she was pulled around a pile of crates. Along the wall of one container was a black lump on the ground with pepper gray curls sticking out.

Myka's heart jumped into her throat seeing Artie down. Instantly all of her worst fears came roaring back. "No!" she said. The thin man's fingers dug into her arm, holding her back.

_No! Not Artie_. She refused to believe what her eyes were telling her. She couldn't lose another partner. _Not Artie. Not him._ "Please…" she heard herself say. Her lips trembled and breath caught in her throat. She had failed. Again. In spite of her best efforts, she had failed her partner. Just like before, but worse, much worse. She had let down Artie, who had trusted her; the entire Warehouse, Claudia. _Oh my god. I'm sorry Claudia_. A tear fell down her cheek.

Myka couldn't tear her eyes away from Artie lying on the ground, not moving. One plump hand was curled and motionless by his head. Behind him was a large, dish like depression in the metal container that matched the crime scene pictures where the two men were killed. Myka closed her eyes and lowered her head. Now she knew what had killed those men, but it took killing her boss to find it.


	4. Little Luck

**Thanks for sticking with me through this new format that I'm trying. More pings to come, but not as many as in chapter 3. That was a monster. **

**Looks like our agents are in quite a mess. Lets see what happens next.**

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><p>"Artie!"<p>

She felt her way around to him. He was lying on his side with his left arm under his head where he was dragged and dropped. Myka couldn't tell if he was even breathing. She grabbed his clothes and shook him softly while calling his name. She received no response and felt nothing but dead weight. Her heart rate shot up in alarm. She tried for a pulse at his neck but didn't feel anything with his head tucked against his chest. Suppressing panic, she quickly grabbed for his limp hand, feeling his wrist. She got a little luck when she felt his pulse. Her hand pressed against his crumbled chest to feel for breath. Quickly, both handcuffed hands then went to his back. Myka held her own breath and strained her ears to listen for the slightest movement of air. After an agonizing second Myka felt Artie's back rise and fall, then rise again. Myka released her own breath in relief; he was alive, at least for now. The agent's head dropped as she recovered and she put her hand on her boss's still shoulder. She needed to get them out of there.

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><p><strong>(15 minutes ago)<strong>

The two goons each took an arm and hefted Artie's body up. His head hung down between the two men.

"Jess? Uh, he's moving." The smaller guard said.

"Sometimes they twitch, uh, just after." The larger one said.

The smaller guard looked unconvinced. "Ya, but – I mean like, breathing moving."

Myka raised her head, not daring to hope that Artie might have survived. The thin man took charge. "Take off that coat so I can see what's going on." He ordered his personal body guard who went to the two guards. He pulled on the collar of Artie's black coat until he removed the long coat from the limp body. The personal body guard tossed the coat on the top of Artie's bag and tesla where it bounced and landed.

A shove and a pain forced Myka to her knees. The thin, balding man stepped on her handcuffs, effectively pinning her to the ground. "Stand here." He ordered Eric. Myka felt his foot replaced by Eric's.

The thin man walked up to Artie's slumped body held up by the two goons. He grabbed a handful of his gray curls and jerked Artie's head up. Myka could see Artie's eyes closed and face slack. If he was alive, he wasn't with them on that loading dock. The thin man cruelly slapped his hand to Artie's throat. Myka heart nearly beat out of her chest in those seconds while she waited.

The thin man made a disgusted sound then dropped Artie's head. It swung briefly between the two guards. "Throw them in a container until I can figure this out." He marched up to Eric and Myka and said in a dangerous tone. "There seems to be some details to work out before our negotiation can start."

Thin fingers grabbed her arm and pulled her up and backwards. She stumbled along as best she could, but her mind was on Artie. "Is he alive?" she asked meekly.

The men didn't answer her. The thin one opened a container door, but seeing it full, he said. "Try the next one."

"Listen, you don't want to do this." Myka was throwing out anything now in her desperation just hoping that something would stick. "People will notice that we're missing! It's just a matter of time, don't get yourself into this kind of trouble! Ok, listen take me. Just leave him here. "

None of the men were listening to her. She didn't expect them to, but she had to try something, anything to avoid getting locked up. She was being dragged sideways and backwards, keeping her off balanced, so that she couldn't kick the man. Even if she were to try, she couldn't save Artie as she was, if he was even alive. She needed to stick with him to help if she could. So, she let herself to be dragged up to another container.

The two guards roughly hauled Artie's body between them. They were starting to grunt with the effort of carrying his substantial weight. The bigger guard, with large forearms, nearly dropped him as he shifted Artie to open the door to a shipping container. "Careful! Please!" Myka yelled instinctively.

The guard ignored her and peeked into the dark space. "Looks clear boss."

"Dump them in." he ordered.

The two men roughly hauled Artie's limp body in over Myka's protests. They pulled him, head swinging and feet dragging, along the side wall and unceremoniously dropped him.

"Be careful with him!" Myka yelled. The thin man pulled her further into the container and forced her to her knees.


	5. Silence

Myka stood and looked around the container; her eyes pierced the darkness a little more. She felt her way to the door but wasn't surprised that it was locked from the outside. She looked around, still unable to see more than a few feet in front of her. Myka made a meticulous search of the entire container. The agent determined that the container's main point of weakness was up top by the ventilation slots. Myka's hair flew when she whipped her head around looking for the crate. She found it by whacking her other knee on it. In short order Myka was on top of the crate exploring the vents for weaknesses.

The thin agent used her handcuffs to force the vent's cover off. She used the metal cover to bend a support strip that would open the space enough for Myka to put her arm through.

From behind her, Myka heard something slide. She turned her head and listened hard. Quickly the agent was off the box and groping along the wall to find her injured boss again.

When she found him she called his name. She heard him breathe out and saw him grimace slightly in the dim light. "Artie?"

Her voice hit his head like a boulder slamming a dumpster.

In the gloom she saw him cringe, a lot this time. He was clearly in pain and she didn't know what she could do to help him. She softly called his name again to let him know that she was there but he reacted again, putting up a shaky hand as if trying to shield himself from her. He opened his eyes as he held up one finger and, shaking, put it to his lips.

Myka blinked. He was asking her to be quiet, but it was deathly silent in their prison already. The only sound was from Myka whispering. That shouldn't be causing him pain, but obviously it was.

She waited, giving him time to recover as much as he could, given the circumstances. Artie held his head and slowly propped himself onto his elbow. The sound of his clothes rubbing against the floor was almost too much for him to handle. He stayed still a moment to recover. Myka waited patiently and so didn't cause any more unnecessary noise. His head was overwhelmed with pain and it felt like his ears were on fire, but he knew they were in trouble so he fought through it as much as he could.

The agent gave himself another breath, and then tried to sit up. Artie pushed his hand against the floor, which was the only way to stop it from shaking. His clothes rasped noisily into his brain. He could hear every cotton fiber catching on every flake of metal. Myka grabbed him and helped him sit against the wall. The effort and cataclysmic level of pain made his breath ragged. He fought down waves of nausea and pain that crashed into him. Then, quite suddenly, the effort proved to be too much. Myka saw his head bob into his chest as Artie mercifully slipped into unconsciousness.

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><p>Artie slowly became aware of his fingers. They were curled and resting on his leg. He thought about his thumb. He was satisfied when he saw it twitch. He made one of his other fingers twitch. Then he realized that his eyes must be open. He didn't remember opening them. He couldn't see beyond his fingers, nor move anything else.<p>

"What do you want?" a female voice suddenly whispered.

"Move to the back." returned a rough, male voice.

"No."

The voices were soft as a natural reaction to the silence, but to Artie they might as well have been beating on his head with a hammer.

"Move!" Then he heard a small click.

"Look at him. He's in no condition for anything." Artie saw a light illuminate his eyelids which he guessed he must have closed at some point.

"I won't ask again." The voice grew threatening.

"I'm not moving." Myka said with determination.

Artie heard a sharp impact and then Myka fall to the floor. He fought to stay there, but felt himself slipping away from the container and Myka. He didn't hear the men leave or Myka pick herself up off the floor.

She crawled as best she could with her hands handcuffed until she was sitting protectively beside him. Artie felt her warmth when she took her position at his side. He tried to groan or move but his arms weighed a ton and his eyelids wouldn't budge. He struggled to stay aware as darkness loomed to swallow him.

Myka slipped her hand into his. Her touch helped him keep the darkness at bay a moment longer. His fingers slowly curled around hers.

Artie lost his tenuous grip on reality and fell into a dark void.


	6. Scales and Buckles

**I was going to update this weekend, but I just couldn't leave our agents in that mess! Onwards!**

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><p>Artie jerked awake. He gasped at the sudden return to life which sent ripples of pain down his spine. The pain made him moan and that sent his ears on fire, making him wince. Myka was suddenly at his side. He pitched forward and slipped sideways from the chain reaction. Myka caught him and gently set him back up while he shook then had to catch his breath. Long seconds later, he opened his eyes to see her pretty eyes twisted in concern and worry.<p>

She chanced a barely audibly whisper. "Artie?"

The senior agent shut his eyes in pain and brought his palm to his temple. Artie thought that now, on a scale of 1-10, the pain was about a 9.5 instead of a 20. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and forced them to focus. He shot out a quick, small smile at his agent.

Myka released a sigh of unspeakable relief. She patted his shoulder with both hands as they were still handcuffed. Artie saw the handcuffs, but it took a second for the realization to make it to his brain. Myka patted his leg to reassure him or perhaps to say that she would be back because she stood and started to move away.

Artie slowly grabbed his belt buckle with both hands and turned it sideways. There was a click that went right through his head. This time the noise was reduced to a rock in a metal garbage can. Myka heard the click and turned to see what he was doing.

The senior agent silently laid down pieces of his belt buckle next to him. He pulled out the metal center piece that held it all together. Artie raised his hand and curled his fingers, making a "come here" signal to Myka. The younger agent crouched beside him with a questioning look.

Artie slowly reached out and pulled her hands to him. His brain noted the bruises and dried blood on her wrists. He figured that she tried to use a torquing technique to remove them but these handcuffs were a later generation, as he was sure she had figured out by now. He used the metal belt piece to quickly pick the lock. It unlocked with a click that made Artie flinch and groan. Myka's heart went out to him. She grabbed his shoulder in support as he breathed deeply to deal with the pain. Artie wearily reached out for the other cuff. He easily unlocked the second cuff that resulted in another click echoing in the old agent's cranium.

The freed agent rubbed her tender wrists, grimacing a little at the blood and swelling. Artie rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Myka patted Artie's leg to reassure him, not wanting to pain him by speaking. When he didn't respond, she removed her shoes and padded back to the vent.


	7. Hatch

**Thanks for the new reviewers, Rosa and Smolder! Welcome! Thanks Jimmy and Pete! **

**Yes onwards. ;) Lets see how they get out of this! Ready for a monster chapter? **

****PING****

**Update. I did promise a monster chapter after all... Just because GTC asked.**

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><p>Artie opened his eyes; he hadn't realized that he closed them. Myka wasn't to be seen. He reached over and found the pieces to his belt buckle. Fitting them all together he reassembled the buckle with a snap. The noise only registered about a 7 on Artie's newly formed pain scale.<p>

He noticed a shift in the dim lighting in the container. He raised his heavy head to see the only source of lighting from the far corner be blocked off by something. Artie didn't know how much time had passed, but he knew it was probably far too long. He needed to get up.

He pushed himself off the wall and sat up on his own. The sound of his clothes rubbing against the metal container was greatly reduced from before. Encouraged, the old agent rolled onto his side and put his hands on the metal wall for support. His head was dizzy, but the pain was tolerable. Even his breath echoing inside his head was of a manageable noise level.

Using the wall for support, Artie struggled to his feet. His head spun madly when he stood. He had no reference to level inside his dimly lit uni-colored prison, so he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool wall. He fought down a wave of nausea that rose from the pain, concentrating on breathing and staying upright. _Where is Myka?_

He was startled by someone running into him. Myka scared herself, expecting to find Artie on the floor and not standing up. She laid a hand on his shoulder stopping her forward momentum into him, excited to see her boss standing. He was leaning heavily on the wall, but still, upright. She saw him push himself to arms length from the wall and sway dangerously. She grabbed his shoulders and turned him so his back was against the wall. She gave him time to recover and held him up by pinning him between her and the metal wall.

.

Myka saw Artie grimace in pain. That close it was like she shared what he was experiencing. She seemed to take some of the pain from him and he took strength from her. He put the heel of his hand to his temple as if he was trying to hold his brain in. He held his breath and she felt him tremble for a few seconds before he caught it again. She didn't know what else to do to help him, so she just stood there holding him up.

Myka knew that he should lie down, but the effort for him to get back to this position again would be too much. She had rarely been in a situation as grim as they were in at that point. Her attempts at opening up the air vent were obviously futile. The container was made of thick metal and the vent was only six inches wide and a foot long. She had stuck her arm through it, but there was nothing within reach on the outside. Two-inch thick steel surrounded the vent and ended her efforts.

She needed Artie's brain, but more than that, Artie was in this position because of her. He didn't have to expose himself but he did to protect her and now, he was suffering for it. _He should be dead._ she thought. _He could have let me take the blast, but he didn't. Artie did this to protect me._ She took a hard hit from those goons when they came for him, but she knew that she would do it again, even as her eye continued to swell. Artie proved that he was there for her; there was no way that she wasn't going to protect him when he needed it. If they had issues before, as far as she was concerned, he had more than made up for it. She was going to do whatever it took to get them out of there.

Myka's musings were interrupted when her boss eked out a weak "myka…"

She was surprised to hear him talk. It was the first word that he said since getting blasted. She hadn't spoken for fear of causing him more pain, but she thought that perhaps he had recovered enough to talk. She chanced a whisper: "Artie?" She bent down to try to catch his gaze through his half-open eyes.

.

Artie's own voice echoed in his head three times before fading. Her response was slightly less paining. His ears were still on fire but now a new pain was forming. Artie inwardly cringed at the thought of removing the earplugs that he still had in, but the growing pain of his ears threatened to eclipse even that of his head. With Myka holding him up, he figured that there would be no better time to remove them. He took a couple of heavy breaths in anticipation of the pain, and raised his right hand to his ear.

The graying agent grasped the earplug with his finger tips and pulled. The noise from the plug being removed was nearly crippling. His slightly swollen ear screamed in protest of the friction. A whimper of pain escaped him and he bent over, breaking free of her grip. Myka caught him and carefully set him against the wall again, not completely sure what just happened. Artie reached for his other ear before he could change his mind. The pain was repeated. Even though Myka had tightened her grip, Artie's knee gave out. She prevented him from falling to the floor completely, catching him against the wall half way down. Her boss closed his eyes while he caught his breath.

When his vision cleared, Artie felt his ears for blood. He thought that there was no way that there could be that much pain without bleeding, so he was surprised when his fingers came back dry. He raised his gaze to see Myka watching him intently with a question on her face. In response, he held out his hand. She looked at it to see the ear plugs. Suddenly her face cleared into a small smile. "That's how you did it!" she whispered in clear admiration. He flicked the side of his mouth upwards in response.

The agents struggled to their feet. Artie swallowed and tried talking again. He needed information. Badly. He fell back on old routine. "…fi... me in." He was pleased that his voice bounced only around the container and not in his head with the plugs removed.

Myka looked at him as if she were evaluating whether he could handle a briefing. She decided to keep it as brief as humanly possible. "We're in a truck container. Door's locked. There's a vent, but it's too small to do any good."

Artie nodded. So that was where the dim light was coming from and why it was blocked. Myka was working on it. "sh-show me."

The younger agent put her arm under Artie's and across his back. He pushed off the wall and leaned on her as they both made their way to the far corner.

"I opened it up enough to get my arm outside but there's nothing within reach." Myka sat her boss on the crate and jumped on top of it to demonstrate.

Artie bent his neck back to see the vent and was rewarded with a wave of dizziness. He caught the spinning wall and closed his eyes to counter it. "What do you see?" he asked his agent.

"Nothing. There's another container right up against this one." She craned her neck and put her eye as close as she could to the side wall to look up. "The next row goes up at least one more container higher."

"Is there a container on top of this one?" Artie whispered as loudly as he dared.

"Um.." Myka twisted her neck again trying for a different angle. "I can't…. wait! No. There's not. I can see a reflection. There's nothing on top of us." Myka smiled her thanks at the shiny metal logo on the neighboring container.

_At least there's that,_ he thought. "Ok. Get down." Myka obeyed her boss. "Have you tried the center hatch?" Myka stared at him blankly. _Obviously she hasn't_. "There's usually a safety hatch on shipping containers like this. At the top. Middle." He had to catch his breath again after talking so much.

Myka padded to where she guessed was the center of the shipping container. She looked up. In the dim light she couldn't make out anything at all. She forgave herself just a tiny bit for missing a hatch in her initial evaluation of their prison. She returned to Artie shaking her head. "Nothing." He nodded in understanding and patted the box he was sitting on. She raised an eyebrow. _Definitely worth a try_.

Artie stood against the wall and cringed as Myka slid the box to the center of the container. She looked up to checked on him when the box was in position, but he waved her on with the hand that wasn't holding his head. The agent jumped on top of the box. If a hatch was there, she was going to find it. She peered straight up into darkness. Myka reached her hand up in case something was there that she couldn't see. She waved and felt just air. She squinted, willing herself to see something. _Is that something? _She wondered. She did see a spot. It was darker than the surrounding area, like a depression. Myka reached up again. She went on her tip toes and stretched as high as she could. _Still nothing. _But she swore that she could see something now. What, she wasn't sure.

Myka climbed down from the box and went to Artie. "There might be something. I can't tell."

"It's a hatch." He said surprisingly certain, cringing at his own voice. "You can't reach it?" She shook her head. "Ok, let's tilt the crate." He breathed. "That'll give you another few inches."

The old agent pushed himself off of the wall and crossed the few steps to the box. He leaned heavily on it. Myka stuck close to him in case he needed her. The grey head tilted, motioning her to climb on top of the box. She jumped up and used her toes to feel for the edge. "Ready?" he said looking up at her.

"Go," she responded. Artie grabbed the edge of the box and hauled it up, tilting it on its edge. He held the crate there. Myka agilely moved with the rotating box. She balanced on the top edge with both of her bare feet. She maintained her balance then carefully reached straight up with one hand. She swung her hand around, but felt just the void of space. Frustrated, she looked up. She could just make out a line that looked closer to her than the darker space behind it. She started to lose her balance and had to use her heel to push her weight on the side of the box, forcing it down. It slipped Artie's grasp and landed with a thud that reverberated around the metal container. Artie grabbed his ears and moaned in agony. He fell onto the box dealing with the splitting pain and nausea. Myka bent down to her boss writhing at her feet. She put her hand on his back and felt him trembling.

"Artie?" She rubbed his back, trying to stimulate his lungs in her own feeble way. "Breathe Artie." She encouraged. "C'mon…breathe." Myka hated feeling so helpless. After long seconds of just trying to keep her boss with her, she finally felt him suck in a shaky breath. The young agent racked her brain. She certainly didn't have much to work with. If that was a hatch, then she simply **had** to reach it. She reviewed all that was available to her: the box, less than half a boss… then suddenly she had an idea. She reached into her pocket and drew out the handcuffs.

Artie managed to force breath into his lungs again. He slowly propped himself up on his elbows and held his head. He was pretty sure that giving into the nausea would nearly finish him off. The pain receded to a sickening thud. He heard a jingle of metal. Looking up, he saw Myka holding the handcuffs. She said "I think I saw a handle."

The older agent caught on to her idea. "You think you can snag it?" he whispered and cringed. His own voice made his eyes cross and spun the room until he stopped it by holding his head again.

Myka nodded. "I can try." She looked at him with concern. "Are you up for it?"

Artie knew that he had to be. He nodded. After a few more breaths he pushed himself up. The sooner they did this, the sooner this whole nightmare could be over. They couldn't afford to wait for anyone to find out what the banging was about. He gripped the edge of the box again and looked up with weary eyes. "Ready?"

Myka held her handcuffs open so that they could close over the handle. She gripped the edge of the box with her foot and looked to where she thought that the handle was. "Ready."

The boss hauled the box on edge again. Myka rode it up and swung her hand into space. The extra few inches that the handcuffs gave here were enough to make contact with the handle. The handle hit the cuffs dead center. The open part of the cuffs swung over the handle and locked around it with a clang.

Artie flinched at the noise. With an effort he let the box down without dropping it. Knowing that Myka had snagged the handle, he gave into the pain. The old agent crumpled and slid down the box. He sat against the box and buried his head in his hands, gripping his grey curls between his fingers.

Myka softly landed beside him. She gripped his shoulder in concern. "Artie?"

He grabbed her arm and pushed her away. "hatch." He whispered. Myka's face turned determined as she looked up. She stood but he pulled her back down. She looked at him with a question forming on her lips.

Artie opened his eyes. His sensitive ears heard what she couldn't. "Footsteps."

Myka's eyes widened. They had run out of time. She threw her weight forward and shoved the box to the far side wall. She grabbed Artie before he fell backwards and dragged him to the opposite side wall as they heard the key in the lock. Myka leaned her boss against the wall just as the door was being opened. She turned to face the mobsters again standing between them and Artie.

Myka evaluated the mobsters entering the container prison. She thought that she could take out the first two, but the third that hung by the door would be a problem. If he was armed, he would probably kill them both just for resisting.

The first goon who approached was the one that Myka had let hit her earlier when they had come for Artie. She thought that it would appease them if she let him hit her and she was right. They left right afterwards. But now was different. They wanted Artie for some reason. Her logic told her that she wouldn't be able to stop them, but she stood in between them anyway.

"Get up." The first thick man ordered.

Artie raised his heavy head from where Myka had deposited him. He tried to get up, but his energy was spent. He fell back against the side wall in exhaustion. The second goon moved towards Artie but Myka stepped in front of him. "Let him be."

"Move!" The man ordered.

"No." Myka stared the man down. The man by the door unfastened his safety strap from his gun. _So he is armed_. She thought without removing her eyes from the man threatening Artie.

The man was unnerved by this thin woman showing so much presence in the face of insurmountable odds. He over reacted and shoved Myka much harder than necessary. She flew to the opposite side wall. The body guard by the door watched with his hand on his gun.

Artie watched the struggle from the floor of the container. He tried to tell Myka to stop resisting. He knew that three armed men were no match even for her, but he lost his voice to the thudding in his head. He tried to get up again, but he had no energy left after dealing with the box and being thrown at the wall.

The first big man who entered descended on him. The goon grabbed fistfuls of Artie's clothes and painfully wrenched him up. Artie got his feet under him for a second then the container spun and his legs wouldn't cooperate. The two men grabbed under his arms and roughly jerked him forward. The old agent's knees went out completely forcing the men to hold his full weight. The first big man cursed and backhandedly slapped Artie to get him to his feet.

Myka heard the slap and Artie choke in pain. Her blood instantly boiled. Gun or no gun, she didn't care.

The agent launched forward and caught the first man by surprise in the darkness with a full-force elbow to the teeth. He stumbled backwards and she caught her boss as the goon dropped him. The second man reached over Artie and shoved Myka back but not before Artie put something soft into her palm. The first big man spat out blood and descended on Myka. He used his superior size and shoved her back against the side wall. He threw a wide punch at her, but her eyes were better adjusted to the darkness and she was done letting him punch her. She moved her head to the side allowing his fist to crash into the metal wall just behind her. He let out a short scream. The goon jammed his other elbow against her throat pinning her against the wall. She struggled, her airway being squeezed painfully. The man by the door gave the order twice before the man released Myka. She collapsed onto the floor coughing and grabbing at her throat as they closed the door and left her in the darkness. She opened her hand and saw what Artie had given her- his earplugs.


	8. Seperation

**Thanks for the support guys! Really appreciate the new reviews! Here's something little for your Friday nite!**

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><p>The old agent's eyes were half closed, but his sensitive ears picked up everything. He heard Myka scream and bang against the locked door after he was removed. Artie thought that she put on a good act. He knew that he would have to give her enough time to get through the hatch and formulate an escape plan. He would have to stall.<p>

The two men forcefully drug him into an open area. Artie tried to take in his surroundings but he could barely lift his head. They came to an area where the containers were stacked only on two sides. The shipping yard opened up to lake in the distance and there was a black car parked nearby. The two thick men deposited him into a small metal folding chair. Helpless, Artie almost fell out of it, but he was roughly righted with a shove. He knew that he would have to sit up or he would likely be tied to the chair. With an effort, Artie kept his balance.

The thinnest man of the four men brought up a second metal chair and set it backwards in front of the agent. He straddled the chair. Artie lifted his heavy head and blinked to focus his eyes.

"Now..." He looked at Artie with cold eyes. "Care to tell us why you are still alive?"

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><p>The young, talented agent quickly escaped from her prison. From the top of the shipping container, Myka was thankful that she still didn't have her shoes on to click on the hard metal. She approached the front, peeking over the edge. The brunette ducked when she caught site of the body guard standing by the door of the container. Apparently Myka encouraged the mobsters to leave a guard with her brazen actions. She cursed herself and her stupidity.<p>

She crouched down on top of the container and re-evaluated the situation. She had to find Artie. She had to get that sonic gun. Once she found her boss, she knew she wouldn't do much good against four armed men, not to mention the deadly, sound wave blasting satellite, gun.

Considering Artie's condition, Myka couldn't count on any help from him at all. Suddenly the agent's eyes lit up. She remembered that all the men that she had seen so far were armed. Chances were this guard was as well. Myka carefully peeked over the front edge of the container and evaluated the guard's position. She silently moved bare feet to the edge of the container when he was looking the other way. Myka squeezed her hand into a rock hard fist. She took several quick breaths and felt a healthy dose of adrenaline shoot through her right before she jumped.


	9. Failed Tactics

**Kends... no review? Pete isn't that mad at me! :)**

**Girltechcoyote and Rosa... looks like Artie can use that possy...**

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><p>Agent Nielson's head snapped to the side. Blood oozed from his split lip but his arms just hug uselessly at his sides. The second guard standing behind him caught him from falling out of the chair. Artie was grateful that Myka broke the guard's right hand, leaving only his left to hit with. The old agent clamped his eyes shut with a groan to help counter the spinning pain echoing around in his skull, letting his head dip to his chest. <em>That was a bad idea<em>. He thought, knowing that he couldn't take much more physical abuse.

The second goon jerked Artie up by his collar, restarting his breathing with a gasp. He didn't realize until then that he nearly passed out. Myka would be picking him up in a body bag if he didn't change tactics.

"It doesn't work." Artie managed between heavy breaths.

"Excuse me?" the thinner man came forward. Eric was against a container behind everyone looking at the whole scene with obvious distaste. He looked at the old agent in growing suspicion.

Artie spit out blood then swallowed hard. "The sonic gun. It doesn't kill."

Eric spoke up. "It does!" He looked at the thinner mobster with obvious fear. "I killed two men with it. Believe me, it works!"

_So it was him,_ thought Artie.

"Then why are we still talking to him?" The thinner man motioned to Artie helplessly trying to catch his breath in the small chair. Eric shot a look of contempt fuel by fear. Artie didn't like that look at all. It usually came right before a very desperate act.

Eric looked at the thin man. "Let me prove it to you." He marched to the foot of the containers and picked up a small duffle bag. The muscle goons moved from around Artie to the side. Eric unzipped the duffle and pulled out the small hollow satellite dish.

"I know that it didn't kill him the first time, but it's never failed before. Let me prove it to you. If it doesn't work, then you can kill the deal." Eric said.

"That won't be all." growled the thin man. Eric barely kept his composure but managed to set his jaw and look at Artie.

Artie's eyes went wide. He glanced around. The big goon was just to his right, but a few feet away. He knew that he wouldn't get far if he tried to run, even if he thought that his legs would work. Artie knew that sonic gun was lethal. He doubted that he would survive another blast even with ear plugs in. Without…

The big goon looked down at Artie with a look that was appropriate for getting rid of a lingering pest. Artie pulled his feet under him. The goon noticed and shifted towards the old man keeping him in the chair. Eric turned on the power to the dish. They could all hear the transistors powering up. Artie's brain scrambled for ideas but he couldn't come up with something that wasn't obviously a lie or wouldn't put Myka in danger.

With the noise gun quickly at full power, Eric looked at Artie. The young man's eyes had only a hint of remorse as he lifted the dish and pointed it at the agent. His other hand went to the power box to release the sound blast. Artie looked straight at Eric. If he was to die, then he wanted this man to know what it really meant to kill another person.

Suddenly a shot rang out. The big goon flinched and groaned. He grabbed at the left side of his chest. His hand came back red with wet blood. He staggered as a second shot rang out, the bullet sparking right behind the Eric's head. He ducked out of instinct, momentarily forgetting about his sonic gun.

The thin man shouted out, "There!" He pointed to where the shots were coming from. The two big goons reached from under their coats and drew their guns.

Artie saw the guns aiming in Myka's direction. With difficulty, he stood up and reached behind him. The bleeding agent channeled the rest of his strength and swung the metal chair at the closest gun pointed in his agent's direction, knocking the big guard's arm down. Gun and chair both fell to the ground. The body guards both looked at the old agent in genuine surprise. The second man swung his arm and pointed his gun at the breathless agent. His legs had very little left in them. Artie could only stand and look at the barrel pointed at him. A gunshot rang out making him flinch in anticipation of the bullet but the guard was the one who fell into the dirt; shot by Myka.

Artie stood shocked for a moment. He felt his chest quickly to verify that he wasn't shot.

The rattled agent and the injured guard looked at each other. The guard looked down. Artie followed his gaze to the gun lying in the dirt and realized what was about to happen. The big man glanced at the wounded agent again; then suddenly, he lunged for the gun. At the same time Artie leapt forward and tackled the goon. He fell easily after being softened up and shot by Myka and the two men went down in a heap.

Artie's world was instantly reduced to loud, blinding pain that nearly split his head open.

Time stopped. He saw flashes of colored lights and felt light headed. The bleeding agent vaguely realized that he was holding his breath. Artie twitched as he tried to draw in air but failed. He was only dimly aware as he writhed, hands clutching his head and clawing the dirt.

Eventually, instincts took over and forced air into his lungs. The lights flashed in his vision. Slowly, the old agent became aware of the ground. He concentrated on the dirt and forced in another gasp of air. Flashing lights gave way to the big goon bleeding next to him.

Time started moving again when Artie put a shaky hand out and pushed away from the man. His body weighed a ton but he slowly was able to roll to his stomach. Struggling, he eventually pushed himself to his elbows. He saw the goon's gun lying in the dirt and reached for it. It was too far away, so he dragged his body forward and tried again, crawling until he could get his fingers on it. He drew it to his chest, eliminating one gun from the fight against Myka.

Eric composed himself while the body guards fell. He turned and fired the sonic gun over their heads. Artie looked helplessly in the direction where Myka was shooting from. Shipping containers dented as the sonic blast hit them. Artie choked through a wave of nausea and pain that threatened to overwhelm him from the noise from the gun. He saw Myka sprint from her firing position away from the rolling sonic wave that crinkled metal like paper and sent boxes flying. He knew that just being in proximity to the beam was crippling, but Myka seemed to be able to keep fighting. Eric saw her running and turned the satellite dish to follow her. Myka leapt behind a loaded palate. The sound beam swept to the palate of sugar which exploded in a cloud of white when the sound beam hit it.

Suddenly it went quiet. A million little raindrops sounded as the sugar cloud came down. Eric looked down at his noise gun which had stopped sending out its deadly sound waves. The pain rose in Artie's head again and threatened not to quit. He looked over at the first big goon lying a few feet from him. He was groaning in pain and grabbing at his chest with a broken right hand. His top lip was swollen and up that close Artie noticed that he was missing a tooth.

Eric slapped his power pack. It displayed a red light. He went pale. He looked at the thinner man who was already inside of his car. "Mr. Lambert! It works! You saw it!" Eric panicked when he realized that the car was about to pull away. "Take me with you! It works!"

The man called up to the driver, "Go!" and pulled the door closed.

Artie fought hard to lift his head and saw a black Cadillac peeling out. His concussion started to consume him again. The old man's vision went fuzzy and narrowed as he watched the license plate drive away. His head dropped and his glasses snapped when he fell heavily into the dirt.


	10. Ch 9 PING

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**Chapter 9 Update!**

**New material.**


	11. Last Word

**Ok, I did say this was going to be non standard right? **

**Don't want to lose the comments on Ch. 10, so I'm leaving it as a place holder. Thanks to all the readers and reviewer and those who favorited! Yes, Kritchkow- even the glasses went! **

**Lets see what happens- Action!**

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><p>Myka peeked out when she heard the quiet. She managed to avoid a direct blast, but the associated pressure waves bombarded her. Calming herself, she jumped out from behind to the sugar pallet after the sugar stopped falling from the sky. She saw the young friend, Eric, chasing a speeding black Cadillac.<p>

"_Freeze! _Secret Service!" she pointed the gun at him, ready to shoot if he direct that noise gun at her.

"Secret Service? Are you kidding me?"

"Put the gun down!"

Myka gripped the gun nervously. She used the last of her bullets to stop these guys from shooting Artie. She knew that she was pointing an empty gun at Eric, but he didn't. The kid started to follow her instructions, slowly putting the noise gun on the floor. Myka moved forward as he did. "Carefully." She wasn't exactly sure how the gun worked, and she didn't want it going off.

Eric dropped the noise gun the last inch to the floor. The dish landed face down and vibrated and shook as it hovered half an inch above the ground as it went off. Myka and Eric glanced at it and the amplified noise it produced. In that split second that Myka diverted her eyes, Eric made his move. Myka fired her gun out of instinct when Eric leapt towards her but the gun clicked on the empty chamber. It was empty, just as she counted.

The young Eric went for the Myka's gun. He got both of his hands on it, but she could hold on with only her right hand. That freed up her left, which she used to punch him in the ear. Twice. He let go of the gun enough to elbow her just below her already swollen eye, making it water. Myka grabbed a fist full of the young man's hair and yanked backwards while kicking the back of his leg at the same time. Eric went off balance. He fell backwards still holding on to Myka's gun. She was pulled down on top of him as they fell to the ground.

Myka managed to drive her elbow into Eric's gut as she fell, but he still had fight left in him. She gave him a full left cross punch that bruised his cheek, but he pulled her gun and hand to the side then rolled on top of her. Suddenly Myka found herself pinned with Eric scrambling to get better leverage. She knew that she couldn't' let that happen. Myka brought her knee up sharply making Eric's eyes bulge in pain and shock at her low blow. Her left fist connected with his jaw pushing him off of the agent.

Quickly, Myka tossed the empty gun away and removed her ear plugs. Eric was groaning in pain, only weakly conscious. The agent evaluated the scene again. "Artie!" He was still laying immobile by the two body guards who were shifting, but showed no signs of joining the fight.

Myka swallowed a knot in her throat when she saw a forest green lump lying face down and not moving. She called to Artie with no effect. The professional agent relied on her training and kept focused. She had to eliminate threats before helping him or there would be two dead agents instead of one. Keeping her eyes on everything at once, she hurried to her boss's side.

Artie's closed eyes didn't move when she called to him. She saw blood on his left hand then realized his right was underneath him. Myka's heart pounded and she came to the worst conclusion; they shot him in the gun battle. She quickly grabbed his shoulder and turned him over. As he rolled he let out a small gasp. Artie's right hand rose up. Myka barely saw the gun in time. She grabbed it as he started to point it at her. She easily forced his hand down but Artie clung to the weapon.

"Artie! Artie it's me, Myka."

"myka.." The old agent's eyes fluttered. His hand released the gun. Myka grabbed it and secured the gun, tucking it into her belt.

Myka was shocked when she was grabbed by her boss. "Myka!" he breathed.

"Artie! I'm right here. I'm here Artie." She didn't know what was happening.

He held her with both hands, pulling himself up to her. She wrapped one arm behind him, helping him half sit up.

"Did-did you get the artifact?" he gasped.

"Yeah, Artie, I got it." She looked to where the dish laid on the ground, forgotten.

Artie struggled to sit up. "Where? Neutralize it. Did you bag it?"

Myka racked her brain. "How? Artie, where's your bag?"

"Over…" Artie put his hand to his head and pulled off his broken glasses. "Around the corner. I saw it on the ground." Myka jumped up to look for it as Artie examined the two pieces of his glasses mournfully. "Bring it… go get it." He mumbled to her back.

Quickly, Myka returned with not only Artie's bag and Tesla but also coat and hat. She got down next to him as he was holding his head. He opened his eyes and then his bag, grabbing a neutralizing bag while she got up to retrieve the dish.

Myka came back to Artie with the noise gun. "Drop the whole thing in?" She looked at the dish and attached pack of batteries and electronics, debating if it would fit into the neutralizer bag.

"I think that the artifact is mostly the perfection of the dish and it's… ability… to-" he looked up to see Myka holding the dead battery and noise gun pointing over his head. Artie's eyes went wide as the area inside the dish started to warp and shake. Myka just noticed the dish vibrating when Artie's hand shot up and knocked the dish skyward. A beam of Artie's voice, magnified a thousand times, blasted into the air and dissipated.

Myka and Artie sat stunned at the discharge. Myka spoke first. "Artie, the gun isn't even powered! The battery's dead and I pulled the microphone off to make sure!" She kept the dish pointed straight up, just in case, while fumbling for a neutralizing bag at the same time.

Artie's fast brain put the clues together. "That's not a microphone, it's a speaker. The electronics were just to provide the noise for the gun to reflect. The artifact is the dish, not the speaker. Bag it."

Myka was already moving. She carefully set the dish face down on the dirt to dig in Artie's bag for a neutralizer bag.

There was a suddenly movement from Artie. Eric's voice said, "Hey!" Myka turned around to see Eric, with one of the guard's guns pointed at her head. His finger was on the trigger. His resolved and upset expression told her that he was firing the gun as she watched.

The noise gun captured Eric's last words, held by Artie. It vibrated and shot the youth's voice back at him in a deadly noise beam, throwing him into the air and across the shipping yard.

Myka breathed out the breath she was holding. She watched long enough to know that Eric wouldn't be ever getting up again before looking down at Artie. Her boss was still lying down where he dove for the dish to deflect Eric's words back to him before he could shoot the gun. Artie's face was resolved, but covered in a sort of sorrow at taking another's life. He pursed his lips, almost in disgust, and slowly sat up again.

Grimly and silently, Myka opened the neutralizer bag and Artie dropped the dish into it. Colored sparks flew from the bag while both agents ducked and shielded their eyes from the display.


	12. Make Up

**I believe that this requires a bit of explanation. This story had been completed in my mind, but the more I considered it, the more it was obviously unfinished. Feedback would be nice to encourage, or not. ;)**

**Thanks goes out to CuriosityCollection for the help. CC has a great, epic story out.**

**Happy Thanksgiving. I'm thankful to have agents and a Warehouse to play with.**

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><p>Myka recovered and sealed the bag, folding the flap over to secure the high powered dish. Both agents let out a breath of relief at finally getting the artifact bagged. Myka looked at Artie. "How you doing?"<p>

Artie realized that he was wiping blood from his goatee. The ground spun slowly around his pounding head, but his ears felt better. Myka's voice no longer caused him ridiculous pain. He looked to Myka with what he hoped was an encouraging expression. "Better."

"Think you can stand?"

In response, he nodded, then held his arm out and shoved off the ground. Myka grabbed his arm and pulled Artie to his feet. He rose with a grunt and a whimper. She held onto him while he staggered. Artie's hand went to his head and stayed there. He winced as Myka put her arm around his shoulders.

"This is going to take a lot of explaining." She said, surveying the make shift battle field.

Artie looked up, as if realizing the mess for the first time. "Hm? Oh. Yeah, well we're not sticking around to explain it." He motioned to their SUV and turned Myka towards it. He pushed off of her and started towards the vehicle.

Myka let him go, turning to quickly checked the pockets of the big goon who hit her in the container earlier. He was clutching his chest where she shot him, but she could tell that the wound was to the side of his chest and he would probably live. The guard made no effort to stop Myka from pulling out his cell phone. She dialed 911, then handed it to the bleeding guy.

"After you get patched up, I suggest claiming amnesia about us. Trust me, it'll be easier for you." Myka said. The man dully nodded his agreement. She held the phone out to him until he positioned himself on his elbow to free up an arm to hold it himself.

Myka gathered Artie's things, listening for the goon to talk to the 911 operator before quickly catching up to Artie who was taking a rather serpentine route to the SUV. She grabbed his arm, steadying him.

Artie gave Myka a quick glance of thanks. "Did you get- ah, my bag." She handed it to him. Artie set the bag on the hood as they approached the car, then jerked it open and plunged his arm in past his elbow. Quickly, he came out with the car keys. He clicked the rental remote, unlocking the SUV, but Myka held out her hand. "Oh, uh, yeah…" He handed the keys over to Myka who sighed inwardly at his hesitation.

Artie shrugged her off when she helped him to the passenger side of the SUV, but she held the door open for him anyway and helped him up. "Careful Artie."

"Leave this to the local police. Complications… Mrs. Frederic- not to mention the Regents…" Artie mumbled mostly to himself, ending with a shudder.

Myka shut the door then ran around the vehicle and got in herself. Her boss had laid back against the headrest and was still mumbling through heavily hooded eyes. Myka started the car then told him, "Don't worry. I'll get you checked out."

Artie's eyes opened and he started making unintelligible, but clearly negative sounds. "N, n, n, no…"

"Artie, you're barely standing. You have to go to a hospital!" Myka said with emotion.

Artie sat up. His voice grew strong with the force of his personality giving power to his words. "And tell them what? That I was blasted by a sound amplifying artifact made into a noise gun by guy who tried to sell it to the mob?" He added sarcastically. "Oh, that won't raise any questions at all!"

Myka bit lip a bit as she tried to figure out what to say next, but Artie added, "Let's go! I don't want to be here when the next round of mob hit men start showing up."

She silently agreed with this one point of his. The black Cadillac with the the guy in charge did get away and might be back any minute. She put the car into gear forcefully, sending gravel flying as they pulled out of the port.

Once on the road, and away from all of the mobsters, the agents visibly relaxed. Out of the corner of her eye Myka saw Artie pitifully try to piece his broken glasses back together. He swayed in his seat, and grabbed at his head, letting out a soft groan.

The younger agent jerked the vehicle suddenly to the side. Myka ignored Artie's questions as she pulled over to the side of the road. She still ignored him when she pulled out her recovered cell phone and started swiping and typing on the screen.

Artie was practically beside himself by this time. "Myka, Myka, Myka. What are you doing?! We, we have to-"

"I'm getting you to a doctor." Myka responded tersely, not looking up from her search for a hospital in the area.

"N… n… n…" Artie took a breath to gathered himself. "Look. Hey… Hey!" Myka gave him an angry glance. Artie sighed and said, "Look, I'm ok."

"Artie, you're not ok!"

"Myka! I AM fine." The supervisor held her gaze for a long moment before saying, "You want me to feel better? Then get to me back to the Warehouse! THAT will make me feel better."

The brown haired agent clenched her jaw, then looked out the window when she felt her emotions rise. Artie was unprepared for the sight of brimming tears.

"Wh- are you... Myka?" He tilted his head to try to look at her.

She inwardly cursed herself for being in this situation. Myka quickly brushed moisture from the corner of her eye.

"What? What is it?" Artie let his voice go soft.

She looked down at her hands, that somehow helping her force out the words. "I just can't help but think that if you weren't covering me- if I was in a better position, then- then he wouldn't… you wouldn't have…"

Eyebrows furrowed, Artie finished, "Gotten hurt?" He tilted his head further. "Hm?"

Myka looked at him, then raised her chin to face him. "They got the jump on me. I was reckless."

"You were doing your job. So was I. It happens. " he said. Myka started to fight still so he cut her off. "It happens! This is a dangerous job."

Myka sniffed, considering, as she looked out the windshield. A light, miserable drizzle had started. Her emotions were back under control, but her logic wasn't satisfied quite yet. She said to him, "If I had checked the area better, done a full sweep instead of focusing on the first suspect I found, then I-"

Artie shook his head; very gently. "Myka…"

His tone made her stop and look out the window again.

The senior agent searched for something inspiring or comforting to say, but his headache wasn't letting him think straight. "You and Pete, you're the best agents I've had… and…" Myka turned her head to look at him again. "Listen, I know that, in the past, your partners-"

Myka set her jaw, and shrugged, but also nodded. "Yeah."

"But, uh, if you, you want to talk about it…"

Myka frowned and shook her head, playing off the moment. "Maybe. I mean, after."

"Ah, ok. After." Artie agreed, not entirely positive what to.

Myka forced a half hearted smile. "After, we get you taken care of." She looked at her phone again.

"We just, I thought-"

Myka put the phone to her ear. She said, as if she knew the person who picked up, "Hello? Oh hi."

Artie frowned. "Who did you call?"

Myka shushed him. "I'm afraid that we need a visit. As soon as possible. Yes. No, I'm ok." Myka looked in the rear view mirror and gently touched her bruised and swollen cheek. "Yes. Yes. Can you talk to him?"

Artie questioned her with a look. His agent clicked on the phone's speaker. She gave the phone to Artie so she could put the car into gear.

"Uh, hello?" He said, hesitatingly to whoever Myka had called. He looked at number on the phone just as a sweet, light voice came out of it.

"Artie? Are you all right?" Dr. Calder's voice said.

His cranky frown melted into a surprised, loopy grin. "Vanessa!" he breathed out. "I'm… I'm fine. Just a little, uhm…" He knew that he wouldn't get away with lying to her. "Wait, just one…." Artie clicked off the speaker to have a little bit more privacy. He put the phone to his ear, shooting Myka a sideways glare. Myka couldn't help but grin at the sweet relationship between the doctor and her boss. "Hi Vanessa… Yeah, well no. I- we're heading back now… Yea. I think I- we both do… Hate to bother you… Well, of course, I would like to see you again… Vanessa, can you, can you wait one second?"

"Myka?"

Myka barely glanced at him, her attention back on the road to drive them back to Warehouse 13. "Yeah Artie?"

"Nice work today."

"What?"

Artie gave her a serious look. "You came though when I needed you. Thanks."

Myka returned his gaze. She nodded, accepting his validation of her; her skills, her value as an agent.

Artie gave her a small smile, then turned his full attention to the phone. He rubbed his sore forehead, shading his eyes, which helped his headache, but his goofy smile returned. "Vanessa? Ya, hi. Yes we did already say this… Well, hi again…"

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.<strong>


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